A Poisonous Plot by Susanna Gregory Read Free Book Online

to King’s Hall.’
    Bartholomew did some quick calculations: that left a three-hour window between when Frenge had left the brewery and when the Austins had found the body.
    ‘Why would he go there?’ asked Michael suspiciously. ‘He hates the place.’
    ‘Perhaps the barrel was a peace offering,’ said Peyn, with the kind of smirk that suggested he thought it highly unlikely.
    Bartholomew experienced a growing sense of unease. Had Frenge done something sly to the ale, something that would lay an entire College low? And if so, had King’s Hall seen through the plot and forced him to swallow the stuff himself? It would certainly explain the bruises on his jaw. But then how had Frenge’s body gone from the College to the Austin Priory?
    ‘I am afraid Frenge is dead,’ said Michael gently. ‘He was taken ill near the Austin Priory, and although the friars did their best to help him, it was to no avail. I hope you can take comfort from the fact that they are praying for his soul as I speak.’
    ‘We already heard,’ said Shirwynk. He seemed more irked than distressed. ‘Although it is hard to believe – he was perfectly well earlier.’
    ‘He was poisoned,’ Michael went on. ‘My Corpse Examiner here—’
    ‘Your what ?’ interrupted Shirwynk, regarding Bartholomew askance.
    ‘Matt inspects all those who die on University property,’ explained Michael. ‘He—’
    ‘In that case, I do not want him near Letia,’ said Shirwynk firmly. ‘Not if he has had his hands on cadavers.’
    Bartholomew regarded him blankly. ‘Letia?’
    ‘My wife. Nigellus did her horoscope, see, and he says she will die before tomorrow. I was considering getting a second opinion, but I do not want one from a Corpse Examiner.’
    The last two words were spoken with considerable distaste.
    ‘I am a physician first,’ said Bartholomew, hoping Nigellus had done something more useful for the poor woman than predict the time of her passing.
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Shirwynk with a shudder. ‘But you will stay away from her – now and when she is dead. Is that clear? Now get out.’
    He began shoving both scholars towards the door before Bartholomew could say whether it was clear or not.
    ‘Wait,’ ordered Michael, resisting. He was a large man, and all but impossible to budge if he did not want to go. ‘Your friend was poisoned , Shirwynk. Surely you must want to help us catch the culprit? You can do it by answering questions.’
    ‘I already know who is the culprit,’ snarled the brewer. ‘King’s Hall.’
    And with that, he gave Michael a push that sent him staggering into the street, a feat that revealed him to be a very powerful man. Bartholomew was thrust out after him and the door slammed closed. Michael straightened his rumpled habit.
    ‘He was very determined that an expert on death should go nowhere near his ailing wife,’ the monk remarked. ‘It was suspicious.’
    Bartholomew agreed, but could hardly insist on seeing the woman against her husband’s wishes, and his immediate concern was King’s Hall. He broke into a run, aware of Michael struggling to keep up, but the monk had enjoyed too many sumptuous meals at University expense, and his girth had expanded accordingly. He was a long way behind by the time Bartholomew reached Cambridge’s largest and most influential College, and rapped on the gatehouse door.
    ‘Thank God you are here at last, Doctor!’ cried the porter who answered. ‘Come in quickly. Master Cew is dying.’
    King’s Hall was proud of its royal connections. It had been founded by Edward II forty years before, and was the College of choice for the kin of barons and high-ranking churchmen. Grateful alumni showered it with gifts, and it occupied by far the most sumptuous buildings in the town, set amid beautifully manicured grounds. Each Fellow had the unthinkable luxury of one or even two rooms to himself, and its table was among the finest in the country.
    Bartholomew saw none of the